


fight the daylight

by WhereverMyWay



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - 2000s, Alternate Universe - Y2K, Bank Robbery, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Heist, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychotropic Drugs, Public Sex, Road Head, Smoking, changbin is a hackerman, minho asks changbin to stick a finger in a gunshot wound (sexually), minho is a horny bastard, not beta read because we exist like careless humans, sorry to the rent-a-cop, they do magic mushrooms on a beach in mexico and watch the sun come up, unconventional new years plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereverMyWay/pseuds/WhereverMyWay
Summary: It’s December 31, 1999. Y2K is here. Hammerpants are still (barely) a thing, and, no matter what anyone says, Minho still thinks they’re cool, okay? “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” is blasting through the cheap speakers of a blue '95 Pontiac Firebird, cruising down Highway 89A out of Prescott, Arizona.Seo Changbin and Lee Minho, also known as Spear B and Lee Know, respectively, are notorious underground criminals that traverse the forgotten, sleepy towns of the American plains and deserts, craftily avoiding the coasts and other large cities as they plan their next hits. They’re well-known for being young, well-dressed thieves, but nobody knows their real names or faces. It doesn’t matter; when they’re done with this one, The Big One, they’ll finally have enough money to fuck off to West Coast Nowhere and become the nobodies they wanted to be — just with money.Alternatively:two men say "let's be gay and commit crimes" and take it literally.
Relationships: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Seo Changbin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62
Collections: SKZ Fuckfest





	fight the daylight

**Author's Note:**

> "Prompt 70: Bonnie and Clyde style duo fuck after a successful heist. Minbin preferred!"
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hello, friends! Here's my submission for the fuckfest lightning round. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it.
> 
> I make a lot of references to various 90s songs in this fic, so here they are, in order:  
> "[I Want it That Way](https://youtu.be/4fndeDfaWCg)", Backstreet Boys // "[Everybody (Backstreet's Back)](https://youtu.be/J47YIH1XCGE)" , Backstreet Boys // "[To the Moon & Back](https://youtu.be/HCm6gRHINqA)", Savage Garden (implied) // "[I Want You](https://youtu.be/HQt6jIKNwgU)", Savage Garden // (the rest of Savage Garden's [self-titled album](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL5yAH9dNrrUoxixviUAaFo7oUV4Bor5GM), implied) // Nine Inch Nails' "[Downward Spiral](https://youtu.be/2gsW4AgXzEg)" album (mentioned; specifically "[Closer](https://youtu.be/ccY25Cb3im0)", implied) // "[Nice Guys Finish Last](https://youtu.be/vouf6QP2tzU)", Green Day // [Nimrod (album)](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZTiyt6oTFw6nclFNtMf2cOwqtUU5_Xmi), Green Day, implied.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **Note:** This is a work of fiction. The characters in this fic are fictional, and do not exist, they're just extrapolations I've made based off of their idol personas. Also, please don't do the things that they do in this fic, the things they do are very much illegal and you'll end up very much arrested. I make several mentions to chronic illness in this fic, so if that makes you nervous, maybe don’t read this. There’s not much in graphic detail, it’s just there. There's also a very brief moment where one of the characters gets lost in his thoughts and fantasises about being fucked while having an unloaded gun pointed at him.

"You’ve been listening to the Backstreet Boys on repeat for the past fucking hour,” a hushed voice grumbled in between the walls of a blue ‘95 Pontiac Firebird that was parked behind an abandoned, decrepit motel. “I don’t understand why you’re so adamant on—”

“Ain’t nothin’ but a heartache,” another voice sang along to the song playing through the speakers, the volume gently increasing as he turned the dial. “I’m not holding up this bank until you sing along, man.”

In the passenger seat sat a modestly-sized brunette man dressed in a black, high-end suit. He dropped his head into his hand and sighed heavily. “Minho, I swear to god—”

“Tell me why — c’mon, Changbin! I _know_ you love this song.”

The bridge ended, and the brunette lifted his head and groaned, taking in a quick breath before half-heartedly singing the refrain, with the man in the driver’s seat offering some sort of butchered harmony. The brunette tried biting back a smile as he watched the man in white act out a scene straight out of a concert, belting out the lyrics to the song with vigour and passion. Eventually, the brunette gave in at the end, acting nearly as passionately as his counterpart.

“See?” Minho smiled widely as the song ended, leaning over the centre console. He grabbed the brunette’s face and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “Don’t you feel that much more energised, love?”

Before the blonde could pull away, he was pulled back by the lapels of his jacket for a longer, more intense kiss, right before things went back to business. “Yeah, yeah. Look, we’ll only have three minutes before the alarms are raised once we get started,” Changbin said with confidence. He sat back in his seat, then adjusted his leather gloves and ruffled his chestnut brown hair, gently fussing over his appearance in the mirror of the flimsy visor. “That’s all I’m gonna be able to get us, based on the security system they use. Of course, that’s all assuming that Y2K doesn’t fuck us over. Maybe we’ll get lucky?” He flipped the visor up, then turned to look at the man in the driver seat.

Minho simply scoffed in response, lips subtly curling up in a cocky smirk as he adjusted his white necktie and fluffed his fading blonde hair in the rear-view mirror. His chunky blond highlights were starting to blend into his natural brown hair, but it could easily be fixed later when they were safely nestled away in a small village in Mexico. “I may take a while in the sheets, but I’m not gonna waste any time with this.” He turned to look at Changbin, offering him a cheeky, toothy grin, to which the other man rolled his eyes and sighed. “You gotta admit, though, the white and black mismatched suits was a creative idea.”

“Shut up, Minho.” The man clad in all black sighed again with more force and annoyance this time. “Are you ready to do this? This is the biggest one yet. This is _it.”_

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Minho ripped the keys out of the ignition of the Firebird. He rolled his eyes up the other man’s body, purposefully slowly. His gaze trailed upwards from the younger man’s well-polished, black leather oxfords, to his greyscale, argyle-patterned socks, up his toned legs, his torso, then settled on his face. “What?” Minho whined as he stuck his hand out to point at the shoes he was just staring at. “You look fucking hot, Changbin, let me take in the sight before we get these nice clothes bloodied and ruined.”

Changbin scowled at Minho as he pulled a duffel bag from the back seat. “I don’t know why we’re partners.” Out of the bag, he pulled a couple of large, square cloths, one black and one white, to drape over their faces. He fumbled a bit around the contents, haphazardly tossing two pairs of pitch black sunglasses into the other man’s lap. Wearing sunglasses at nearly midnight would normally be considered a stupid idea, but it would prove useful at shielding their appearance from any cameras inside of the building.

“You know why we’re partners, love. It’s the mind-blowing sex, isn’t it?” The older man offered a cheeky grin with his cheeky response, plucking the thin white cloth from his partner’s lap and tying it behind his head, covering his nose and lips. He grabbed the sunglasses and set them atop his head, waiting to cover his eyes until they got closer to their destination.

“You’re absolutely insufferable, babe.” Changbin let go of the duffel bag, dropping it into his lap and then covered his face with his hands, sighing with frustration. “Can you please focus on the fucking job and stop thinking with your dick for five minutes? Please?”

Minho bared a toothy smile as he opened the car door. “Only if we can listen to Backstreet Boys again on the way outta here.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

☾

“Shit,” Changbin hissed, slamming the lid of his ThinkPad 380 shut, ripping some cables out of a box in the side of the building. 

“What’s up?” Minho adjusted the gloves on his hands as he whispered.

“The system’s not a problem. I got us 180 seconds to get in, get the shit, get out.” Changbin fiddled with his calculator watch a bit to set a timer, then threw his bulky laptop into the duffel bag. He quickly moved towards the front door, grabbing the pistol out of the holster attached to his hip, Minho right next to his side. “They were somewhat prepared for this. There’s a note in the security log; someone’s in there, probably towards the back.”

They stopped at the front door, pausing for only a moment, and Minho took a step in front of Changbin, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes and his rifle in front of his body. “Don’t worry, baby. C’mon, it’s a fucking rent-a-cop,” he smirked and arrogantly winked, readying his rifle. “Better feel grateful that your future husband’s a great shot.” Before Changbin could protest, Minho kicked the door in and fired off a warning shot off at a camera in the corner, startling the portly guard in front of the service desks awake. “Happy fucking New Year! This is a stick up!” They wildly stared at each other for just a moment, then Minho aimed his rifle at the man as Changbin quickly moved, ducking behind the shoddy plastic partitions and darting towards the back of the bank.

As terrifying as Minho was with a gun, Changbin was thankful he was never caught on the wrong side of it. What scared him more than Minho wildly shooting off rounds of his semi-automatic, however, was the fact that Minho’s blistering insanity and dangerousness with the weapon caused him to lose his breath and for his blood to rapidly pool south. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want the man to point an empty gun at him while they fucked, to feel the rush course through his veins, but he’d never admit it out loud.

The rent-a-cop guard wasn’t a very good shot, which was what they anticipated for a small bank in the middle of nowhere. He kept trying to shoot at Changbin, but he was clearly unfamiliar with actually using a firearm, his aim wild and unpredictable; he fired out of terror, rather than with calculus. The man clad in black deftly ducked and dodged the shots as he made his way towards the back of the bank, quietly chuckling in excitement the entire way. He had studied this layout several times; he may never have been inside of the bank before, but he knew every nook and cranny in this place.

“Oi!” Minho shouted, then fired off a couple of warning shots. “Pay attention to _me_ , you asshole!”

Changbin laughed under his breath. “I don’t like it when nobody pays attention to me,” he mockingly whispered at the same time and at the same cadence as Minho shouted the exact same words. They had a routine, and they were good together. Changbin was speedy and knew exactly where to hit to get the most payout for their efforts, whereas Minho was always good crowd control.

The guard was able to get a single shot into Minho’s leg, and it had to be only a couple of seconds after that when Minho finally got fed up and unloaded his rifle into the rent-a-cop. “Poor bastard,” he sarcastically tsked, muttering under his breath as his rifle smoked into the air. It wasn’t serious; Minho rarely ever felt anything when he killed someone. Don’t get attached, don’t have problems. “Yo, you done yet? I know you don’t like to take a while, but…”

God, Changbin wanted to fuck the arrogance out of Minho, and he was going to curse himself for getting momentarily distracted when he should have solely focused on the job at hand. He shook his wrist, looking at his watch as it illuminated his face, bringing him back to reality as he hacked into the computer connected to the vault. “I’ve got ninety-five seconds before we gotta bounce. Stop running your trap and come fucking help me, you asshole.” Changbin grumbled, tapping away until the vault door opened. “Bingo,” he gasped, smiling wildly as he ran inside. 

☾

“Holy shit!” Minho gasped as Changbin sped down the highway, constantly turning his head over both of his shoulders, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe we actually got away with it, that was so fucking rad!” He reached down to the CD player, jamming his finger against the skip forward button several times until “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” started playing in the speakers, somewhat muted by the wind above the open roof of the car.

“Minho,” Changbin scolded, squeezing his partner’s knee for a moment before returning his hand to the shifter, shifting into a higher gear. “I need to take care of your leg. Once we’re out of the immediate area and it’s safe to stop, I’m gonna properly clean it out. Grab the antibiotics in the glove compartment,” Changbin pointed with his index finger, hand still on the shifter, “take two. Okay?”

Minho uttered a noncommittal grunt, reaching down to rifle through the glove compartment. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, anything to make you happy.” He grabbed a couple of pill bottles out from the glovebox, frowning as he tossed one of them back into the box with a huff. His eyes darted to the clock on the dashboard; he still had several hours to go before another dose of the other medication, but every time he saw the bottle, his mood soured. The blonde fumbled with the lid of the antibiotics bottle, eventually getting it open. He popped two in his mouth, then haphazardly tossed the bottle back into the compartment, kicking the door shut with his foot. “Happy now, love?”

“Sorry, I’d rather not have you fucking die, dude.” Changbin mumbled, reaching into the centre console to grab a cigarette from the white and blue packaging. He slid one out, pulling it out by his teeth, grabbing the tiny matchbox next to it. He raised his knee to the steering wheel, momentarily taking his hand off of it to strike the match. The cross-breeze from the open roof caused the flame to flicker a bit, making Changbin grumble as he tried to suck in a breath while focusing on the empty road in front of him. He tossed the spent match out the side of the car window, then threw the matchbox and pack of cigarettes into the cupholder. “Hey, I know it’s random, but, you wanna get married, Min?” 

“I thought you said marriage was overrated?” Minho rolled his eyes and tucked his cheek into his hand, resting his arm up against the edge of the door. His gaze fell on Changbin, longingly staring at him as the lights from the dashboard and the moonlight softly illuminated his face.

Changbin lifted his eyebrows and tilted his head, pulling the cigarette from his teeth, casually ashing it out the window. “Never thought we’d rob a bank to celebrate New Years Day on the start of the millennium, either.” He turned his head and looked at Minho, covered in splatters of blood; he knew he picked the white on purpose. To anyone else, he may look terrifying or disgusting — but to Changbin? He was perfect. “Anything’s possible, man.” They were perfect together, in their own strange, fucked up way.

Minho's lilted laughter filled the empty space in the car, his sharp chuckles punctuating the air with pointed staccatos. “We can’t get married anyways, Bin.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Changbin immediately followed up, not missing a beat. “Who gives a shit if it isn’t legal? Let’s do it anyways.” He scoffed. “Besides, when the fuck did we ever listen to the law?”

There was something about Changbin’s unabashed, unfiltered attitude that drove Minho mad, in all of the best possible ways, always putting the widest grin upon his face. The blonde slapped his hand on top of Changbin’s, resting on the gear shift, then interlaced his fingers. A grin grew on his face, and he inched closer to his boyfriend. He was so close, he could practically taste the floral tobacco on his lips. “When were you thinking of stopping?” Minho whispered in the younger man’s ear, giving the lobe a soft nibble.

Changbin hummed, looking up at the stars for a moment, then back down to the dashboard. He had a suspicion of what Minho was up to, but he chose to play along regardless. “Probably somewhere in the next hour. We should be getting up to Wickenburg by then. Why?”

“Don’t mind me, just pay attention to the road, okay? It’d suck to die in a crash because you couldn’t contain yourself.”

“Minho, what are you—” Changbin was cut off as Minho pulled his hand away from the hand on the gear shift, running it over the front of the younger man’s dress pants. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not seriously going to—”

“I _am_. I just want you to know how much I love you and how much I love sticking it to the man with you. Now, shut up and drive while I take care of you.” Minho fumbled with the button and zipper of Changbin’s pants a bit before he was able to peel the black slacks open. The younger man gripped the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white, cold air sneaking through the opening of his boxers, causing him to tense.

“Minho,” Changbin whined into the air through gritted teeth. He was determined to keep his eyes on the dusty asphalt in front of him. As much as he wanted to, there was no way he could fathom watching Minho, because he _absolutely_ would flip the car over. Changbin took one last long, steady drag from his mostly-smoked cigarette, then tossed it out of the window. He took in a quick breath through his teeth as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands.

Minho danced his fingers around onto the rapidly firming erection in front of him, his tongue licking gentle circles into the soft flesh between his palms. “Baby,” Changbin mewled, desperately focusing so hard on the road in front of him, headlights illuminating the nothingness in front of them. He bit his lip back before taking one of his hands from the steering wheel, tangling his fingers into Minho's hair.

Changbin tried desperately to keep his noises bitten back, hoping that the warm desert air whipping around them would drown the noises out. Every movement that Minho made caused him to dig his fingernails into the leather of the steering wheel, the other hand tugging a bit too firmly at Minho's hair.

“Bet you wanna fuck my face so hard right now, paint it all with your cum,” Minho teased at a volume just barely loud enough to carry over the wind. His words caused Changbin's cock to twitch in his palm, which elicited a smirk from the older man. Minho pressed his elbow into the centre console a bit to prop himself up. He licked the side of Changbin's neck gently, his hand slowly stroking up and down the length. His fingers were delicate, yet offered pressure in varying degrees as he stroked from base to tip, making sure to run the pad of his thumb around the base of the head ever so delicately.

“Fuck,” Changbin whined as he involuntarily twitched, barely maintaining his composure. “Trying to focus on the road, Min. You're making this impossible.”

Minho licked his way up Changbin's neck, pausing as he reached the ear in front of him. “Good.” His voice was low, syllables drawled out impossibly slowly. “I don't want your cum on my face, not until you've got me bent over the car and you've got me crying out your name into the empty air.” He jutted his chin out just enough to take the tender flesh of Changbin's earlobe between his teeth, tugging at the sensitive skin gently.

“Minho!” The brunette arched his back, then frantically eyed their surroundings. There wasn't anywhere decent that they could stop off at, so Changbin hoped for the best as he pulled down a dirt road. “Get off me for a sec, babe,” he gripped the elder's thigh with a momentary squeeze. “Thank god we're in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

The blonde smirked, removing his hand and bringing it up to wipe up under his bottom lip. “I told you that having our last heist in the middle of nowhere was smart, for multiple reasons.”

Like their heists, the couple moved fast and in tandem with each other. As soon as Changbin pulled the emergency brake, Minho already had a condom foil between his teeth and a small bottle of lube in his hand as he exited the car.

“Over the back,” Changbin commanded as he loosely fastened his pants together, “the hood of the car is too hot and I don't want you to burn yourself.”

“Aw,” Minho whined sarcastically, “but I like the rush of it all. Maybe you should stick a finger in the gunshot wound in my leg, too. That'd be a real rush.”

Changbin cocked an eyebrow as he walked around the car, trying to brush off Minho’s brash request. “You want me to fingerfuck the wound in your leg? Seriously? Is the rush of fucking out in the open, in the middle of a vast, open desert not enough for you, babe?”

Minho gripped the collar of Changbin's shirt as he approached, the button holding the fabric together popping at the motion. “It’s not the craziest thing I’ve requested, you know. The fact that we could get caught is a rush, sure,” he reached his hands up, fingers dancing against the slightly damp, clammy skin of Changbin's neck, “and anything's good as long as it's with you, but life is short.”

“Min…” Changbin’s voice trailed off, his expression faltering a bit.

Minho frowned for a brief moment before he brought his lips to Changbin's for a quick kiss. “I didn't mean it like that, love.”

“I know, I know,” the brunette sighed, bringing his hands to Minho's hips, their warm bodies softly brushing against each other. “I just can't help but—”

“You're killing the mood, baby. C’mon, let’s not do this sad shit for once.”

Changbin rolled his head up a bit, staring up at the starry sky. “Sorry.” He breathed a quiet, genuine apology into the night, his voice barely loud enough for Minho to hear. A lot of their recent sexual moments would turn serious at the worst time, Changbin's fears getting the best of him as he worried over Minho. The worry was expected, he loved Minho with all of his heart and he wasn't ready for time to catch up to them.

A sharp nibble at the side of Changbin's neck pulled him from his thoughts. “Ow,” he whined, furrowing his brows. “Why'd you do that?”

“You're getting mopey on me,” Minho whispered before biting at the younger man's neck once more, much more gently this time. “It's been months, and you're acting like you're the one that's gonna die.”

“You're not—”

“Stop it.” Minho pulled away from Changbin, staring directly into his eyes with a fierce gaze. “Shut up and fuck me. You didn't pull off of the main road just to talk about all of this, did you?”

A soft breeze gusted between them, carrying a bit of sand along with it. “No,” Changbin shrugged, letting his gaze fall to an indiscriminate spot on the trunk of the car.

“Hey,” Minho reached up and turned Changbin's head by the chin. “I love you, okay? Besides, if we're gonna catch the sunrise in Mexico, we'd better hurry up, yeah? Time’s ticking.”

☾

There was nothing for Minho's moans and Changbin's heavy breathing to bounce off of, their pants and moans carrying far off into the vast Arizona nothingness.

“You know,” Changbin’s voice was stern as he slowed down a bit, grinding against Minho to make him squirm, “I think you’re really fucking hot when you’re angry. You know what’s fucked up, though?”

“The fact that you’re not fucking me harder,” the blonde whined, attempting to fuck himself on the younger man’s cock.

Changbin smirked, biting his lip hard for a moment as he offered a single, rough thrust, causing Minho to yelp and slam his hands down against the back of the car. The brunette leaned in, nipping at the upper cartilage of Minho’s exposed ear for just a moment. “You with a deadly weapon. I really wanted to fuck you on the floor of that rundown place, maybe have the cameras catch you coming undone all for me.”

“Oh,” Minho curled his fingers into the car, his eyes going wide for just a moment as he registered the image. “That’s fucked. I love it, yeah.”

“I knew you would.” It was impossible for Changbin to not feel some sort of arrogant pride as Minho endorsed his somewhat sick fantasies like this. He brought his hands down to the older man’s hips, using his grip as leverage to fuck into him harder, with more drive than before.

“Fuck if it turns you on like this, you should’ve told me sooner, after the first time we fucked post-heist.” Minho refused to keep his voice at a reasonable volume, taking full advantage of the open area around them. “I love the way you feel inside of me, keep fucking me just like that, fuck me like you’d take me on the floor, like we were being watched by a crowd.”

Changbin took a hand from Minho's hip, shakily reaching it up towards his blonde hair. He watched how every thrust he made caused Minho to roll up against the cool metal of the car. His skin would leave smudges that would need to be wiped off, but that didn't matter. As much as he wanted to rush the sex so that they could get back on the road, he couldn't bring himself to speed through the motions. 

He desperately tried to capture the sight of Minho stroking himself, breathlessly panting out Changbin's name as he trembled against the car. Minho's expression as his face shifted between pain, pleasure, and ecstasy. Minho's soft skin against Changbin's exposed stomach. Minho's voice shifting upward in pitch as he inched closer and closer to his orgasm. Minho's fingers digging at the car, scratching the paint ever so slightly. Everything about him, about Minho, every little detail he could keep, as if he were imprinting it onto film that could last forever.

Minho. He loved Minho so desperately, passionately, without any rhyme or reason.

“Minho,” Changbin whined, “I'm close, babe.”

“A little more.” The blonde's voice was at an elevated pitch, his shoulders twitching the way they always did right before he came. “Want you to, ah, to come on my face,” he panted, a few squeaks escaping in between the words.

Changbin pulled out of Minho, gripping the base of his erection firmly as he tore the condom off haphazardly discarding it to the ground beneath him. “Get on your knees, then.”

Minho whined at the loss of Changbin, the sudden emptiness inside of him. However, he remained composed enough as he scrambled to the ground. He rested on his knees, looking up at Changbin pleadingly as he resumed stroking himself. “Want you,” he whined with a whisper, “please, love, all over me, _please.”_

The view of Minho, skin glistening under the moonlight, knees dusty from the sand, mouth wide open and eager for him. As much as Changbin wanted to try desperately at etching it into his mind, he found it too overwhelming. His back arched a bit, eyes clamping shut as his orgasm overtook him. “Minho,” he whined into the open air, praying to himself that he wasn't missing Minho's face.

A sharp cry came from beneath Changbin, and the younger man was able to catch Minho falling apart in front of him. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched his cum drip down Minho's face, mouth hanging open and some of it rolling into his mouth. Minho thrusted into his hand one last time, back arching as cum shot into the air.

“Changbin!”

For all of the soft, tender moments that Changbin loved about Minho, he felt the slightest bit of shame for admittedly loving these filthy little moments nearly as much as the soft ones. Whether he intended to or not, Minho was always good at putting on just enough of a show to drive Changbin mad.

Minho exhaled forcefully, resting back on his heels, then colliding up against the back of the car. "Fuck," he panted, wiping one of his eyelids with the back of his hand. He stared up at Changbin with a wide grin. “I love you.”

“I love you too, so, so much.” A euphoric grin spread across Changbin’s face as he knelt down and stroked Minho's face, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?”

☾

After a quick change of clothes and a decent cleaning and bandaging of Minho’s wound, the duo were cruising back down the highway in about twenty minutes. Minho popped open the glove compartment, pulling a bright orange disk from the binder of CDs. He ejected the disk from the stereo, swapping the matte silver disk for the orange one in his hand. The bass of the song shook the sides of the car door as it started.

Changbin pulled a Parliament from the pack in the cupholder, brows furrowing in confusion as he lit the cigarette with a match. “Well, this is new. What's this, some sort of weird Star Trek shit?”

Minho took the lit cigarette from Changbin's fingers with a coy grin. “Savage Garden. Not even close.”

The younger man pursed his lips and bit back a scowl as he watched Minho take a long drag from his cigarette. “You could’ve asked.”

“C’mon, I’m not that dumb. You'd have told me no.”

Changbin sighed heavily, repeating the same process with a new cigarette. Minho was correct: Changbin absolutely _would_ have told him no, scolding him in a way that would make Minho poke fun at the irony of his protest. The blonde would have teased him for saying he was cutting his life shorter, too. “That's because you know that you shouldn't—”

“Don't.” Minho cut him off abruptly, his voice serious. “Don’t scold me, Changbin.” He turned his head away and stared up at the stars in the night sky, blowing out a plume of smoke into the cool air. “I love you, but I know where your mind goes after we fuck, and I’m not going to go there right now.”

As much as Changbin wanted to protest, he didn't have the energy to argue, not after a heist and definitely not when there was still over four hours of driving ahead of them. There was enough anger and there were plenty of tears over the past year, many of their arguments caused not by each other, but by fear and a panic of the unknown.

After all this time, Changbin knew better than to scold Minho for something as stupid as a simple cigarette after sex. Sure, he was angry that Minho was cutting his time further short, but if it gave him a sense of normalcy, Changbin would let Minho have it.

“Oh,” Minho perked up, discreetly rubbing his cheek as the song shifted to something a bit more upbeat. “I love this song.” He reached down to the plasticky volume dial, turning it and further stressing the shoddy speakers in the doors of the car. “It's fitting,” he grinned at Changbin, “the song. ‘I Want You’. It's one of my favourites off this CD.” 

A lazy smirk crept up the side of Changbin's face, his concerns fading along with the smoke that came from his lungs. He took a final drag off of his cigarette before discarding it out the window. His nicotine-stained hand gripped the steering wheel, and he reached down to Minho's thigh with his right hand. “This song _sounds_ like something you'd like.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Minho playfully whined, interlacing his fingers with the hand on his thigh. “You like my taste in music, so you'd better not be about to insult me.”

A chuckle came from Changbin. “Yeah,” he nodded his head once, eyeing the lights of a nearby city far off in the distance. “I didn't say it was bad, it's just _you.”_

“Hey,” Minho leaned into Changbin's personal space, pressing a quick peck to the younger man's cheek. “I really do love you, you know. Whether we're together for five more years or fifty. We completed the last heist, the big one we planned. Now, we've got all this cash and gold, we'll be set for as much time as we need to be. You did a great job planning this one, love.”

Changbin nudged his head against Minho’s forehead and grinned. “I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Help?” Minho scoffed. “I don’t think you can consider what I did as help.”

“Semantics, remember?” The younger man countered, smiling at the memory of the night prior.

☾

The amount of paperwork Changbin collected for heists was astounding, but this one blew all of their previous heists out of the water. He had several briefcases hidden away in the trunk of their car, a small suitcase for their heist suits and other gear, and another small suitcase for their normal clothes. They didn’t have much room, so they made do with the little room they did have.

“Love,” Minho whined, wrapping his arms around Changbin’s waist. The younger man didn’t flinch, resting his elbow against his knee, biting aimlessly on one of his fingernails as he pored over a map that contained the layout of a small bank just outside of Prescott, notes scribbled over the blueprint in red permanent marker. “Binnie, love,” Minho grumbled with a bit more irritation in his voice. He hated being ignored by anyone, but especially his boyfriend.

It was their last hit. The Big One, as they coined it.

Changbin continued to ignore Minho, but not purposefully. When he got into a project, he _really_ got into it, finding it near impossible to acknowledge that life went on around him. The bank was small — deceptively so. A grin crept up on his face as he looked at the vault location on the paperwork. It was the small banks in rural locations that were always the best to be hit, usually serving as a domestic alternative to offshore accounts for those that couldn’t afford it, but still needed to hide their money in forms of local “donations”. 

“Bin,” Minho’s voice was lower and was closer to Changbin’s ear. He was purposefully breathing heavily, letting little squeaks come up from his throat, trying desperately to distract the younger man. 

The small, rural banks always had better payout-to-risk ratios. Their final heist would likely be the easiest, and the best payout they would’ve had yet — as long as Changbin could hack into the system. Y2K was either going to make this easier or far more difficult than he anticipated. Judging by the fact that everything about this bank seemed grotesquely antiquated, Changbin was willing to bet that it was going to go well, yet he still prepared for the worst.

“Changbin!” Minho shouted, scrambling around into the younger man’s lap, pushing his torso back and startling him. “Pay attention to me, dammit.” The older man flopped both of his hands down to either side of Changbin’s neck, and he playfully pouted. “I let you have your time looking over your stupid paperwork for the sixtieth time today and I’m being needy.”

While he was taken aback, Changbin wasn’t really surprised. He let his face fall into a grimace as he stared up at his boyfriend. “I was in the middle of thinking about the heist tomorrow. You know how—”

“How you’ve gotta look over everything a thousand times because you just—”

“Might miss something critical.” Changbin looked up at Minho with a scowl, but he failed to maintain his composure as the blonde pouted down at him. “I don’t want it to go poorly, y’know? It’s the last one. The most important one to date.”

Minho huffed, dropping to his elbows and colliding his head against Changbin’s chest. “It’ll be fine. I know it’ll be fine, because you’ve been planning this for months.”

Changbin scratched at Minho’s scalp, taking some strands of hair in between his fingertips. He eyed the way that his roots were starting to show more and more, his blonde fading into the dark brown sprouting from his scalp. When they met by chance a few years prior, Minho’s hair was closer to that deep brown, but covered with a rich auburn that complemented his olive-toned skin.

“You know what?” He scoffed, continuing to play with Minho’s hair. “I think you should go back to that weird shade of red you had when I met you, since you’re gonna have to dye your hair soon.”

Minho lifted his head up and scowled. “It wasn’t a weird shade. I liked the red, thank you very much.”

A smirk curled up the side of Changbin’s mouth as he watched Minho pout. “I never said it was bad, just that it was weird.”

 _“You’re_ weird,” Minho countered.

“Oh, come on,” Changbin reached down to Minho, wrapping his arms around the older man’s torso and spinning him around so that he was the one against the mattress. Changbin smiled as Minho’s eyes went wide. He kissed Minho from his forehead down to his exposed collarbone, offering a small nibble at the raised skin over the bone. The blonde let out a squeal and yelped at the sensation, playfully smacking the brunette.

“C’mon, love,” he whined, smacking his hands against his face, poorly attempting to cover the blush that was rapidly blooming on his skin. “I can’t go again already.”

“You were the one practically moaning in my ear just a second ago, you know.” Changbin lifted his head and nudged Minho’s chin with his forehead. “Hey, Min? I’m glad we met at that horrible rest area in New Jersey. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad your car was busted and you didn’t know shit about cars.”

“I still don’t know anything about cars,” Minho peeked through his fingertips, sticking his tongue out for a brief moment before hiding his head in the crook of his elbow. “I still can’t believe you fell for that stupid ‘I don’t have much cash on me, how else can I repay you?’ line.”

The younger man craned his head up, reaching up and pulling Minho’s arm away from his face. “I’d have done it for free, but I guess I couldn’t let you go.” He smiled as he kissed the man underneath him, dropping to one of his elbows for leverage. “And you know what? I’m glad I didn’t.”

Minho laughed against Changbin’s lips, uncovering his face. “Thank you for the violent reminder as to why fucking in the back seat of a tiny sedan is a horrible idea.”

“Technically,” Changbin pulled back and brought an index finger to his nose, “we didn’t actually fuck. I offered, but you were adamant about getting your mouth around my—”

“Semantics!” Minho shrieked as he cut Changbin off, pushing the younger man off of him. “Don’t you have to get back to planning this stupid heist tomorrow?”

A coy grin spread across the brunette’s face as he reached his hand over the brunette’s waist, pressing the heel of his palm against the erection that was growing. “Seems like I have something more important to take care of, first.” 

“I just said I couldn’t—”

Changbin looked up, biting his lip with a grin. “I believe in you.”

☾

Somewhere towards the end of the CD’s second playthrough, Minho had fallen asleep, his head craned in an impossibly uncomfortable position. “Minho,” Changbin reached out to the blonde’s face, stroking it with his index and middle fingers. “Babe, you’re gonna fuck up your neck if you sleep like that.”

“‘m not sleeping,” the blonde grumbled, knitting his brows together as he sleepily reached down to the lever to adjust the pitch of the seat. He lazily dug backwards, causing the back of the seat to tilt just enough to let his head tip towards a more comfortable position. “Just letting my eyes rest.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Changbin scoffed as he fumbled with a few controls on the dashboard. The roof of the car slowly creaked its way over them, and the sudden loss of the ambient noises of the empty night caused his ears to ring. They were just outside of the outskirts of Phoenix, which meant that there was about three hours left until they were on the coast of Mexico. 

They had believably fake passports, and plenty of extra cash for a bribe if necessary. It was their first time leaving the States, especially as wanted criminals, but Changbin had hoped it would pan out. The initial plan was to hide away in a small Mexican community for the pressure on them to die down a bit, but now that they had killed someone, anxiety started to settle in.

When Changbin and Minho met a few years ago in New Jersey, neither of them were technically criminals. Sure, they both skirted the lines of what was legal in their own rights, but who hadn’t? They had never planned on robbing banks, but then Minho’s precarious lifestyle had caught up to him. The years of swapping sex for favours and party drugs couldn’t go without something coming crumbling down on him.

In all honesty, neither of them expected Minho to contract HIV, but that was just the way the cards played out. The diagnosis terrified Minho. He came home to their apartment after the appointment, trembling as he sat down on the couch. The first words that came from his terrified, pallor lips were, “please don’t leave me, Changbin. I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

Changbin pulled another cigarette from the pack, trying to bite back the overwhelming guilt and anger of somehow coming out unaffected always came bubbling up when he was left alone with his thoughts. He remembered being so mad at life threatening to rip the single good thing he had away from him. Sure, it wasn’t nearly the same death sentence it was twenty years ago, but the fear of the unknown was something he was never good at handling. 

Minho had jokingly proposed going out in a blaze of glory, just like in so many of the movies they had watched together, nervously laughing as he said they could be a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. However, he didn’t expect Changbin to actually take him seriously. Their lives were too monotonous, too simple to spend wasting away working at jobs they both hated. When Changbin responded with, “just tell me when and where, I’ll plan it out,” Minho thought he was kidding. 

Minho figured that Changbin was joking until they were escaping the first rural bank they had robbed, covered in sweat, blood, and gunpowder. Reality didn’t set in until they started seeing wanted adverts on television and in newspapers. It was a rush, something so incredibly terrifying, but strangely addictive with each successful heist they notched into their belts.

They had robbed a total of seven banks across America now, deliberately saving the one in Prescott for last. Go out guns blazing, or die trying. Changbin always hoped for things to work out, but he expected it to end in a hail of bullets. The rush of excitement that he felt after every heist was euphoric, the sight of Minho’s excited smile and the glow in his eyes made it all worth it.

“Christ,” Changbin jumped, nearly dropping his cigarette, as the introduction to another song played through the speakers. He quickly turned the volume down, then eyed Minho for a brief moment to ensure he was still asleep. 

Minho was completely unfazed, his expression soft, almost mockingly angelic. His head was tilted, resting up against his left shoulder, his lips slightly parted as he slept peacefully.

Changbin couldn’t help but smile inward. He loved everything about this man, partially because he was wild and he refused to be controlled, pushing the boundaries of the limits life shoved upon him. Minho was the perfect complement to Changbin’s boring life prior. He worked at a budding tech company as a programmer after graduating from a state university. Nothing about his life was exceptional: top twenty per cent of his class, only middle-range at the company he had been at, normal family life. In all honesty, he expected to live his life quietly, completely normal and unnoticed.

In a way, he owed Minho for giving him his life back — a life he never knew he wanted, but the life he needed.

☾

“I wanna go back to sleep,” Minho whined as they left the border crossing, entering Sonoyta. He rubbed his neck, frowning in discomfort as he cracked the joints in his neck.

“I mean,” Changbin shrugged, eyeing the time, “you can if you want. We’ve got an hour until we get to the end of the world.”

“That’s dramatic.” Minho turned his head towards Changbin, huffing as he pouted. “You know, the CD I burned with the Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, and Smash Mouth is like, an hour long.”

“No.”

“But—”

Changbin rolled his eyes and cut Minho off. “I’m so burnt out on them, dude. I love you, but I can’t do it. Savage Garden for four hours straight was pushing it.”

“In my defence, I was asleep, but fine,” Minho drew out his protest with a grumble. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the binder of CDs. He ejected the bright orange disk from the player, holding it in the air around his index finger as he rifled through the various sleeves of CDs. “Downward Spiral?”

The brunette squinted as he mentally recalled the CDs in the collection. “Nine Inch Nails? Nah, that’s for fucking, not for driving.”

Minho’s eyes went wide. “We’ve never fucked to that. Wait, you’d fuck to _that?_ Dude.”

“Well…” Changbin shrugged, biting back an embarrassed smirk. 

“Of _course_ you would. I love you, you weirdo.” Minho went back to rifling through CDs, trying to hold back a laugh. “Okay, hold on, I think I’ve got something upbeat in here, just not quite to the same degree as Top 40. Just trust me on this.”

Minho swapped the orange CD for a bright yellow disk, the reader skipping over the CD for a moment. “C’mon, you greasy fucker, I know it’s in horrible condition, just play the damn—” Before the blonde could eject the disk to clean it, the aggressive rock of the first track filled the car.

“That’s ironic,” Changbin bit his lip as he recognised the song. “Nice guys really do finish last, huh?”

“I dunno, I think you’re pretty nice, but you always finish first.” There was a hint of playful arrogance in Minho’s voice as he flashed his teeth with a wide grin, throwing his hands behind his head.

Changbin reached down to the volume dial, turning it up in irritation. “You’re the worst, you know.”

“Hey!” Minho shouted, moving to turn the music down. “I never said it was _bad,_ it’s kinda cute!”

☾

Sunrise wasn’t technically for another hour, but the warm rays of the sun started to creep up on the beach as Minho and Changbin splayed themselves out onto the sand, far from the heart of Puerto Peñasco. The brunette quickly melted into the granules, exhaling a deep sigh of relief as he closed his eyes. As much as he wanted the ground to eat him up, let him sleep for hours, the sudden collision of a bag on his chest prevented him from rest.

“What’s this?” He grumbled, pulling the bag up over his head. “Wait, are you fucking serious?”

Minho nodded, “I told you, we get to the beach, then we celebrate with a trip. You thought I was kidding?”

Of course Minho wasn’t kidding. As much as he had calmed down over the years, he still had an unpredictable wild streak within him that demanded to be released every so often. 

“I hate mushrooms, though,” Changbin scowled as he opened the bag. “If I wanted to experience eating rotten dirt, I’d have grabbed a fistful when we left Prescott.” Still, he poured the contents of the ziplock bag into his mouth. 

Minho passed him a bottle of orange juice from his bag. “Trust me.”

Without hesitation, Changbin grabbed the bottle and swallowed the last half of its contents down. “I always trust you, even if you’re a little unhinged sometimes.”

The blonde grinned, pushing the younger man back down into the sand and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You love that about me, though, yeah?”

“Of course I do,” the brunette ran his tongue over his teeth and tangled his fingers into Minho’s hair. “I love everything about you, even the unexplainable things. Hell, I probably love those little wacky things about you the most, since nobody else could ever be as weird as you. You broke the monotony of my daily life and, while I’ve left everyone I knew behind, I’d go back and do it all over again.”

A soft, slightly pained smile spread on Minho’s face before he brought his head down to Changbin’s chest, rolling over to stare up at the sky. “I’d do it all, too. I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you and that happy accident in New Jersey all that time ago.”

“Never have I been so happy to see a broken-down car.”

“And I’ve never been so happy to be stuck.

☾

The drugs started to have an effect on both men relatively quickly; within maybe forty-five minutes, the psilocybin started to have a stronger effect on them as it coursed through their veins, causing them to melt into the sand and into each other. 

“I feel…” Minho started to prattle on, “heavy. Like, everything’s so physically overwhelming, but not mentally. You know?”

“Kinda, yeah. Really tired, but not.” Changbin stuck his hand straight up into the air, watching his hand be absorbed by the vibrant blues, purples, and reds of the sky, momentarily becoming one with the air. “Hey. You ever wonder if there’s a god out there, Min?”

Minho chewed his bottom lip, looking up at Changbin’s hand being wildly distorted and skewed around. “Probably not.” It was more of a grumble than a confident statement. “Why’d I get sick if there’s a god? Why make it so some people are born only to suffer and die? Doesn’t seem very just to me.”

Changbin watched a ray of sunlight dance between his fingertips, like a pixie wrapping his hand in a ribbon of twinkling, mysterious light. “Does a god need to be just?”

“I swear,” if there was a decipherable sound as Minho rolled his eyes, it would have been clearly audible along with his heavy sigh. It would have been similar to the way that ripples felt on still water. “You read too many of those nerdy tabletop RPG books. There’s so much morality and, uh, I dunno, dragons and shit in those things.”

The brunette closed his eyes and brought his hand down to his face with a laugh. “C’mon, dude, just because it’s got dragons in the title doesn’t mean it’s all dragons. I’ll have you know there’s, like, cat people and lizard people and shit. Way more than dragons. Fuck paragons, though.”

Everything felt so warm. Minho’s warmth against his skin felt like a warm shower after torrential rain. All of the little moments like this compiled up, blooming like daisies inside Changbin’s chest, each petal feeling like the happiness that came from the delicate way that Minho let his fingers dance and twirl around his skin and tangle in his hair.

“Hey, Changbin,” Minho whispered, grabbing the cheek of the younger man, staring up at him and letting the warmth of the sunrise soak into his skin. “I want you to know something,” he said with sincerity. “I know it’s probably kinda wack during the middle of a serious trip or whatever, but, like, I love you, from here to the ends of the earth. From that shady rest area in New Jersey all the way to here. _You_ brought me here. I probably wouldn’t be here — alive, that is — without you. And I love you for it forever. I’m sorry that I got sick and I might die too early because of it.”

“Come on, man, don’t apologise for that,” an irritating sting of tears started building up in Changbin’s eyes at the shift of tone. “Don’t ruin this moment now, Minho,” he whined. “Someday we’re gonna get married and tell everyone that hated us to fuck off. Some smart person somewhere’s gonna come up with a magic drug and you’re gonna get better and outlive me because I’m not gonna stop smoking until then.”

“You idiot,” Minho grumbled, “this is all I could’ve ever asked for, to sit here on the warm beach on the coast, watching the sunrise come up while we’re tripping our faces off. We’re here together. Alive.” He took in a long, deep breath as he shifted his head against Changbin’s chest. “We did The Big One. We finally made it all work for us. You know it’s only a matter of time before luck catches up to us.” Minho exhaled forcefully, bringing the back of his hand up to his face. “If that happens, you gotta promise you’ll live on for me, alright?”

Changbin sighed heavily, rolling his eyes and pulling Minho into his arms, gripping his shoulders tightly and nuzzling his cheek against Minho’s soft hair. It felt like static danced around the ground beneath them, the earth vibrating up against his skin as he laid in the warmth of the sun, with Minho’s impossibly warm energy feeding into him.“Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t wanna think about you dying any time soon, okay?” 

He didn’t need the sun to thrive, he only needed Minho.

“Would you do it all over again?”

“What?” Changbin shook his head, unsure if he was speaking clearly enough for Minho to understand. “I just told you I—”

“I know, I know, but I mean, would you still stick around if you knew I was gonna get sick, Bin?” Minho bit his lip and closed his eyes. “Would you still go through all of this shit with me?”

“I oughta slap you, Min.” Changbin scoffed, then pressed a quick kiss to the top of Minho’s head, a kiss that felt like the way that a hammer struck a piano string, its shockwaves reverberating in his head, tingling and lingering on his lips. “Of fucking course I’d do it all over again, dude. Every single thing. Every heist. Maybe change it so we got shot less, but I’d _absolutely_ do it all over again. I’d do anything for you, Minho.” The two of them laid there, listening to the ocean’s waves lap up against the shore. “I love you, from that shady rest area in New Jersey. All the way to here. All the way around the world, a million times over. I still think you’re all that and a bag of chips, dude.”

Minho cackled relentlessly, his laughter causing Changbin’s head to spin with how intoxicating it felt, like he wanted to bottle it up and keep it for a rainy day. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Changbin whined in response.

“You’re so goddamn cheesy,” Minho continued to laugh, sitting up just to turn back and stare down at Changbin. He took his hands and grabbed the younger man’s face pulling him in for a kiss, his fingertips and lips feeling positive and electric on his skin. “I love you and your stupid jokes. I love you and I love your stupid face. I love everything about you, you dorky, weird man. Even that nerdy calculator watch you adore so much.”

Changbin sat up, pressing his forehead up against Minho’s, rolling his head a bit to give the older man a soft kiss. “This kinda talk sounds like wedding vows, doesn’t it?”

“You said we should do it anyway. If I remember correctly, your exact words were, give or take, ‘fuck what the law says’.” Minho grabbed Changbin’s neck softly, letting his lips brush up against the brunette’s for a moment. “They never gave a shit about people like us, anyways. Why should we give a shit what _they_ think?”

A smile curled up Changbin’s lips. “You offer an excellent point, baby. So, am I taking your last name, are you taking mine, are we making up a new one?” The two continued exchanging soft kisses and gentle touches back and forth as the sun wrapped its rays around them.

“My last name’s too common, but yours is boring too.”

“Maybe we should be boring people for once. We’ve had enough excitement to last us ten lifetimes. We could become the infamous John Doe couple, how about that?”

Minho rolled his eyes and scoffed at the proposition. “Your sense of humour is bad.”

“No, it’s not.” Changbin sarcastically grumbled, lightly guiding Minho to the ground. “You said it was one of those things that drew you in.” His limbs felt weighed down as he moved, yet he kept pushing forward. Minho leaned back, awkwardly colliding to the sand beneath him, a few excited giggles coming up from him.

“You,” he whispered, reaching up to Changbin’s neck, “everything about you draws me in. You were a mystery when I met you, and I feel like you’re a puzzle I’m putting together slowly, but surely.” He drew each word at the end of his sentence slowly, his breath hitching in his throat as he punctuated the end of it with a clack of his teeth.

“You,” Changbin continued, drawn to Minho like a magnet, right up against his ear, “you’re my everything.” Without hesitation, he craned his head down to the base of Minho’s neck, reaching his tongue out, licking up the salty, briny skin with languid laps. A few granules of sand got caught up in the way, but it was negligible as he made his way up. He elicited tiny squeals from the blonde, which blended into whines, evolving into breathless, desperate pants. “Everything. Beginning to end.” All the way up to Minho’s ear, everything getting progressively sweeter and brighter along the way. “The only thing that fucking matters.” He nipped at Minho’s ear, a bit harder than he anticipated, and the older man jolted, thrusting his hips up against Changbin’s leg, desperate for attention.

“Prologue to epilogue,” Minho reached his hands up under Changbin’s shirt, drawing inane, temporary illustrations into his flesh. He purposely tilted his head in closer to the brunette’s ear, breathing harder and more aggressively as he continued to rock upwards. “Start to finish,” he emphasised the word ‘finish’ with a pant.

Changbin took a moment, running Minho’s electric words around his head until they made sense. “Really? On the beach, while we’re trying to have a calming trip?”

Minho was less subtle than normal, reaching out to grab Changbin’s wrist, desperately guiding his hand down to the waistband of his jeans. “It wouldn’t be the first time, love.”

“Alright, alright. Anything to watch you come undone,” Changbin assisted Minho in undoing the button, scrambling to separate the barriers of cloth from his skin. “You never know if someone’s gonna see us, so try to stay quiet and—”

“No.” Minho’s tone was firm, guiding Changbin’s hand around his cock. “Stop panicking,” he let his head fall backwards, rolling it into the sand as their joint effort caused him to get transported off into a different plane of existence. He breathed out Changbin’s name at varying cadences, occasionally dragging his fingernails against the younger man’s hand.

It was nothing more than a simple handjob, but the heightened risk of being caught, along with the added visual and auditory hallucinations that accompanied each small movement made Changbin’s head light and his body to feel dizzy, like he could get addicted to the euphoria. “Minho,” he panted, watching a halo of vibrant neon energy dance around the blonde’s head. “You’re so effortlessly beautiful like this, when you’re all mine.”

“Yeah,” Minho rolled his head, thrusting his hips up, keeping his eyes clamped shut. “All yours,” he repeated with a whine, “all yours, love. Don’t stop touching me, you feel—” he sharply gasped, his back arching. “Impossible, you feel impossible.” His voice was scratchy, like vinyl catching on a needle. “You can’t exist, it’s just not feasible for your touch to feel so otherworldly.”

As much as he loved watching Minho unravel, Changbin couldn’t resist devouring the neon pink lips in front of him. He didn’t bother with soft, tender kisses like normal, instead opting for aggressive, sloppy, and desperate kissing. The kind of kisses that would take Minho’s breath away as their tongues danced against each other, his lips to swell with each harsh nibble, saliva spilling from the corners of their mouths and down their chins. The kisses that served no romantic purpose, only fuelled their passionate, primal drive.

Minho was emerald green to Changbin’s cranberry red: so glaringly opposite, yet nothing but complementary when paired with each other. In everything they did, they blended when they should have contrasted. From their relentless efforts during their heists, to the way that they moved against and into each other, in tandem with each other’s movements.

“I love you, Minho,” Changbin gasped in between their frantic kisses. “I know you wanna come, so let go. I’ve got you, I promise.”

That was the final push that the blonde needed to unravel, much like a taut rope finally coming undone after valiant attempts to undo it.

“Changbin!” Minho reached his free hand up to the back of the brunette’s neck and dug his nails in as he arched his back, practically screaming out into the open air as his movements turned erratic while he came harder than normal, his cum splattering all over their clothes and blending into the sand. “I love you, I love you — fuck, I love you.”

“I know,” the brunette watched his lover’s face turn from a soft hint of crimson back to the pale olive tone he was used to, slowly coming back down to reality. He pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, down the slope of his nose, then let his lips stay melted against Minho’s, only breaking the kiss long enough to utter another string of affirmations. “You’re everything, Minho. You’re my everything.”

☾ 

It had been a few years since The Big One. Somehow, several months after the heist, Changbin and Minho were able to sneak their way up through the west coast of the United States, then bribe their way up to Canada. “I dunno,” Minho had shrugged, “something about it sounds nice. Easily accessible. Not too big, not too small. Not as hot as here. Not as batshit as America.” 

As informal and hasty as it seemed, that was simply how they had decided that Canada just seemed right for them.

It paid off. 

It was the summer of 2003 when the opportunity for further normalcy approached at their doorstep. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Changbin shouted from the living room of their high rise apartment. “Minho, this is a big fucking deal. I know you spent all night on that draft, but seriously, wake up!” 

They had a nice, comfortable life now. When they moved, they had money to buy an apartment; enough for connections, documentation, and bribe money good enough to speed their very legal immigration paperwork through faster. They didn’t have much left after that, but that was doable, since they had each other and they had gotten away with it all. Changbin now, ironically, worked for a cybersecurity firm, had a normal, boring 9-to-5 job that paid the rest of their bills, and Minho was able to work on his freelance writing career at his leisure.

“What?” Minho grumbled, wiping the sleepiness from his eyes as he slowly sat up, clearing his throat as the sheets shifted around him. Changbin sat at the edge of the bed, then paced nervously for a moment, biting his lip and furrowing his brows. He muttered unintelligibly as he paced, and Minho sighed. “Baby, what is it? You’re concerning me.”

“Where the fuck is it, where the fuck did I put that goddamned—” Changbin looked up at the ceiling, mentally recalling something. “Oh,” he gasped, “that’s right!” He rushed over to their closet, digging around until he pulled out an abandoned, dusty briefcase. That briefcase was the only one they kept, the one where remnants of fabric from their last heist and other seemingly useless little trinkets and physical memories were stored. Changbin rapidly shifted the dials, then undid the fastenings, opening the briefcase with an audible pop. 

“What the hell are you doing, dude?” Minho rubbed his temples, then rested his head on his hands. “You can’t seriously be thinking about a heist, not after all this time?”

“No, no, no. Not at all. But you were so, so right, Canada _was_ a good idea, we just didn’t know how good it was.” Changbin whispered breathlessly as he practically leaped onto the bed. He grabbed Minho’s clammy hand and brought it up to his chest, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “Just like always, you were right. Canada was a great idea, even if it was just a whim. We can do it now, Min.”

The excitement on Changbin’s face caused Minho’s to wrinkle up in confusion. “We can do it whenever you want, man, you just gotta ask me and tell me how you want me. Why are you so excited about that?”

Changbin rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply. “You always think with the wrong head, dude.” He took Minho’s hand, poring over it for a moment, then softly smiled as he spun a cool piece of metal around his ring finger. “We can get married now, man. Actually married. Legally.”

The gears in Minho’s head turned, his face going through a myriad of different emotions as he looked down at the ring on his finger, then back up to Changbin and the dorky smile painted on his face. “What are you talking about? I thought we were already married?”

“No, dude,” Changbin rolled his eyes and bobbed his body up and down with excitement. “We can _actually_ get legally married. I know we talked up a big deal about ‘fuck the system’ and all, but we should do it anyways.” His eyes sparkled a bit and he bit his bottom lip back in anticipation as Minho tried to process everything.

“On one condition,” Minho said, a serious tone to his voice.

Changbin nodded his head several times. “Yeah, yeah, what is it?”

“You take my last name. We’ll be common and boring together.”

“Fuck it, yeah, deal, I don’t care as long as I get to marry you,” Changbin leaped forward, crashing his chest against Minho’s, wrapping his arms around the older man’s shoulders, causing them to both collide against the bed. “Let’s go to the courthouse tomorrow. Get it all done.”

Minho smiled, working his way around to kiss Changbin. “Tomorrow sounds great,” he sighed, nuzzling his face into the brunette’s warm neck. “You know, I still love you, from that shady rest stop in New Jersey, down to the sunlight-kissed desert in Mexico, and now, all the way up to the cold, sea-breezy air of Canada, all the way to wherever the hell we go next.”

“And I love you and still think you’re all that and a bag of chips, baby. You’re my everything.”

☼


End file.
